


Merry Christmas, Moron

by LittleLynn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Festive fic, Happy Ending, M/M, MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE, Stiles gets a clue, Unsure Derek, cavity inducing fluff, mistletoe kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2836790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLynn/pseuds/LittleLynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles stood there bewildered for a moment. Was it just because of the mistletoe? Surely Derek wasn’t the kind to observe funny little traditions like that. Was he? But then, if not the mistletoe, why the hell was he kissing Stiles? It’s not like Stiles minded, as far as Stiles was concerned Derek was welcome to kiss him wherever, whenever, for whatever reason.</p><p>But Derek didn’t like him, at least not like that, did he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Christmas, Moron

**Author's Note:**

> Sup guys, enjoy some ridiculous festive sweetness from our favourite two idiots

 

 

The first time it happened was on December 19th.

Stiles was minding his own business in his room, researching as much as he could about Dryads (they seriously wanted them gone before Christmas), luckily from what Stiles was reading, it didn’t look like it was going to be too difficult. It seemed most likely that they’d wandered into Hale territory by accident, traditionally very docile and shy creatures.

Derek was probably just being overcautious getting Stiles to research like this before interacting with them – not that Stiles could blame him after his lot in life. Either way they were making Derek antsy, they were magic after all. But it seemed to Stiles that they would move on if asked.

He was shutting down his computer and closing the bestiary, starting a text to Derek that relayed his findings when a rap on his window had him flailing out of his chair.

“Ahh!” Stiles yelped as he toppled himself onto the floor – to be fair, he had been leaning back on his chair precariously anyway. He turned to glare at the familiar shape of their local Sourwolf climbing through the window.

“Jeez. Warn a guy would you!” Stiles griped, rubbing at his elbow and picking himself up from the door.

“I did knock.” Derek said affronted, and Stiles did suppose that that was some kind of progress.

“Yeah, well we do have a front door you know. It’s slightly more traditional to knock there, not on a second story window.”

Now that his dad was in the know (which was a serious load off) there really was no reason Derek couldn’t use the front door. Especially as the first time his dad had discovered Derek lurking in his bedroom he had then proceeded to give Stiles another safe sex talk (the less hetero one this time). Which had only managed to turn Stiles approximately the shade of a tomato, but had also had him cringing knowing that Derek could definitely hear this conversation from where he was upstairs – he wasn’t sure if his dad did that one purpose or not as there was a lot of ‘he’s older than you, be careful and you’re not actually at the age of consent yet’ involved.

Besides, even if Stiles did have a teeny, tiny, little (mega, huge, enormous) crush on the big bad wolf, it wasn’t like it was mutual! It was one of those things that Stiles sighed at and got over, moving on with his life and doing his best to valiantly ignore it.

Anyway. So he was clambering up off the floor and rummaging through his stuff.

“I’ll use the door next time. Otherwise you might die of shock, and then who would I get to do the research?”

“Whatever big bad, maybe I’ll stop doing anything for you until you start being nice to me?” Stiles countered, but it was a completely empty threat. Their relationship was leagues better than it used to be, now with minimal physical violence (although if he was being completely honest, he did miss the wall slamming a little bit). And he would probably do just about anything Derek asked at this point.

Stupid crush.

“Sorry.” Derek mumbled and Stiles very nearly did die of shock there and then. He may know that despite his jagged exterior Derek has a heart of pure gold, but still, he’s never heard him actually apologize before. “Do you have any information about the Dryads?”

“Um, yeah. I was just about to text you actually. Everything says they’re pretty harmless and will almost certainly move if you ask them nicely – maybe you should send Scott.” Stiles winked, teasing. Derek glared back but there was no heat behind it. They all knew Derek wasn’t the best at negotiations, friendly or otherwise.

“Fine. And if they don’t go quietly?”

“Then they’re no real match for a werewolf pack. But I’m sure they will, the probably haven’t realized this is werewolf territory, you haven’t introduced yourself and as far as I can see they don’t have any enhanced sense of smell. So basically, Christmas should not be a disaster zone, at least this year.”

“Okay. Thank you Stiles, for doing this.”

“Hey, no problem.” Stiles grinned. “Where are you going?” Stiles asked as Derek headed for the door.

“Um, to leave?” Stiles looked at him quizzically. “By the front door.” Derek clarified.

“Oh my god. Personal growth.” Stiles teased again, slapping Derek on the shoulder and heading out his bedroom with him.

“I said I would.” Derek grumbled. He then stopped in the middle of the landing and gave Stiles an awkward look, it looked almost constipated, like he was deciding if something was a good idea or not.

“What is it?” Stiles asked, he saw Derek’s eyes flicker upwards to where Stiles’ dad always hung a piece of mistletoe. “Oh. Yeah, sorry about that. I did tell my dad that it’s poisonous to you guys. But, um, it was like a tradition with him and my mum. Well, dad used to use it to steal kisses every day, but he still puts it up every year, kind of like in memory to her. So, yeah, sorry, just don’t touch it I guess.” Stiles finished, scratching the back of his neck.

Derek fixed Stiles with a look that Stiles couldn’t decipher.

He was just about to ask what it was when Derek leant in and brushed a soft kiss across his lips. Derek’s lips were soft and not chapped like Stiles’ – could werewolves even chap their lips at all? It was over almost as suddenly as it had happened, and before Stiles could really compute what just happened, Derek raced off and Stiles could hear the front door closing.

Did Derek just run away?

Wait. Did Derek just kiss him?!

Stiles stood there bewildered for a moment. Was it just because of the mistletoe? Surely Derek wasn’t the kind to observe funny little traditions like that. Was he? But then, if not the mistletoe, why the hell was he kissing Stiles? It’s not like Stiles minded, as far as Stiles was concerned Derek was welcome to kiss him wherever, whenever, for whatever reason.

But Derek didn’t like him, at least not like that, did he?

 

 

When they see each other over the next few days, the Dryads happily agreeing to leave and also offering putting down some spells to protect the forest and limit the power of the nemeton. Derek and Stiles stay with them, keeping an eye on them over the next three days.

They don’t talk about it. Which is really wholly unsurprising. They don’t talk about Derek running away like a spooked child, and the definitely don’t talk about Derek kissing him.

However disappointing, Stiles has decided to name it: ‘Derek’s Temporary Moment Of Insanity Not To Be Over Analysed by Stiles’ Stupid Crush.’ Capitalised and everything.

“Come on Derek! I’ve been freezing my ass off in the woods with you for the last three days, the least you could do is take me to the diner so I don’t starve to death as well.” Stiles whined over the console in Derek’s car.

“You didn’t have to stay.” Derek pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah like I was going to leave you here alone when everything was going so well.” Stiles snarked back, getting a glare out of Derek, but they had long since stopped working on Stiles.

“And we had food.”

“No. We had tinned beans. For three days. Tinned beans Derek! But, I’m relieved you weren’t hunting bunnies to be honest.”

“I thought the Dryads might take offence if I caught us rabbits as they’re so connected to the forest.”

“Wait. You were actually thinking things through?! NO! You actually eat bunnies! What the hell!” Derek snickered at him. “OH MY GOD. Someone write down the date! Derek Hale just made an actual joke.” Stiles yelled clutching at his chest dramatically, Derek scowled, just making Stiles laugh more.

“I make jokes.” He groused.

“Sure you do Sourwolf.” Stiles grinned. “So, food?” Stiles sighed dramatically when Derek didn’t respond, but it was only a few moments before Derek was pulling into the diner just down the road from Stiles’ house. Its convenience and excellent curly fries made it his absolute favourite.

“Yes! Thank you Derek!” Stiles fist pumped the air and dived out the car racing for the diner. “Aw, shit.” Stiles moaned, researching all of his pockets. Why was it now that he didn’t have any money on him whatsoever? There was always some kicking around in his pockets. He groaned smacking his head against the counter.

“Two milkshakes, two cheeseburgers and one large curly fries with extra cheese.” He heard next to him, lifting his head to see Derek looking at him with another raised eyebrow.

“I think I love you right now big bad.” Derek gave him a strained look. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I get home.” Stiles reassured as Derek handed over the money.

“Don’t worry about it.” Derek brushed off, heading over to a free booth.

They ate in a comfortable silence, munching through their food and enjoying each other’s company – something that was happening more and more often lately.

They were headed back out of the diner when Derek paused in the doorway.

“What’s up Sourwolf, forget something?” Stiles asked, tilting his head to look at Derek.

Instead of replying Derek ducked slightly and sealed his lips over Stiles’. Stiles made a surprised noise before quickly getting his shit together and kissing Derek back lightly. He didn’t have time to analyse what the hell was happening because _holy shit Derek Hale was kissing him. Again!_

The kiss lasted longer than the other three days ago, Derek slipping his tongue just slightly into Stiles’ mouth, startling a soft moan out of Stiles. The kiss deepened slightly again, Derek’s hands coming up to cup his face and brush a thumb along Stiles’ cheek.

There was a gentle flash and the sound of a shutter next to them, making Derek jump back and blush a deep red – something Stiles had never seen him do before, who even knew werewolves could blush?!

“Everyone who gets a mistletoe kiss gets a photo.” The perky waitress announced with a smile, handing Stiles the instant print photo.

“You can get home from here, right? Um, I’ve got to go. Stuff to take care of. Just– ” Derek was out the door and into his car before he had actually finished his sentence, and Stiles could respond.

Stiles couldn’t believe it. He’d run away again.

He’d _kissed him again_.

What the hell?

“I’m sorry? I didn’t mean to cause any trouble? Most people like getting a natural photo like that.” The waitress apologized, sounding genuinely sorry.

“Don’t worry.” Stiles responded, dazed by the odd situation. “He’s just, kinda socially awkward.”

And apparently either had a thing for mistletoe traditions or kissing Stiles.

Stiles wasn’t sure which was more unlikely.

“Yeah? Well I’m stull sorry though. The way he was looking at you though, I knew he’d kiss you under the mistletoe, had the camera at the ready.” She smiled.

“Really? I didn’t think–”

“Dude, get a clue. He’s absolutely smitten. I assumed you guys were already a thing.”

“Um, yeah, we’re uh, not.” He replied awkwardly – they weren’t, were they?

“Not _yet_.” She replied pointedly. “Get it together, he’s breaking his heart for you.” She finished with a pointed finger at Stiles before bouncing off to serve her other customers, leaving Stiles in even more of a daze than before.

Derek didn’t like him like that. Couldn’t could he? But it wasn’t like he was kissing anyone else under mistletoe. And wasn’t it kind of a silent rule of mistletoe that it was only people who actually liked each other that kissed under it, unless being cajoled into it by peer or family, and no one had been encouraging Derek.

Stiles looked down at the photo of him and Derek. It was a good photo. Derek had determination written all over his face, looking as though he was kissing Stiles with his whole being. His big hands were gently cradling Stiles face and Stiles’ own were grasping onto Derek’s shit – Stiles hadn’t even remembered doing that.

It was a good photo.

It was an honest photo.

 

 

Stiles had left the diner two days and six hours ago completely resolved. When he saw Derek at tomorrow’s Christmas pack night, he was going to kiss him. Without mistletoe or any other kind of excuse, he was just going to do it, because at this point he was fairly sure Derek wanted to kiss Stiles, and obviously, Stiles returned the sentiment.

The only problem was, for two days and six hours, Derek had been avoiding him.

Not the obvious kind of avoiding. More, avoiding being alone with Stiles. And he kept shooting Stiles these worried little looks before running off and hiding mumbling something about wrapping presents or ringing Cora. He was probably worried that Stiles was mortally offended by the kiss(es), or something equally ridiculous. Either way, Stiles did not get an opportunity to kiss Derek.

Which was hellishly annoying because it was 23:42 Christmas eve, and all Stiles wanted for Christmas was Derek. Who was being a big old scaredy cat.

Stiles grabbed his keys and pulled on his favourite red hoodie, leaving the house and getting into the jeep to drive the short journey to Derek’s loft.

He banged on the huge sliding door a couple of times before letting himself in, Derek was stood in the middle of the large living area looking like a rabbit in headlights. He was wearing that adorable sweater with the thumb holes and comfy jean, stubble very slightly longer than it normally was. Basically he looked like a wet dream that would also bring you breakfast in bed every morning and braid his daughter’s hair. Stiles’ heart melted at the sight.

“You have some explaining to do mister.” Stiles said, crossing his arms. He’d never seen Derek look so nervous in his life. It was ridiculous to think that he could do that to him.

“Wha– ” Derek started, but he knew exactly what, still, he looked pretty anxious.

“Twice you’ve now kissed me. I want to know why.” Stiles asked softly.

“I, uh, there was mistletoe?” Derek answered weakly, clearly not even believing it himself.

“Do you kiss everyone you know when there’s mistletoe?” Stiles asked again gently.

“No, I mean– I just– it’s not– …no.” Derek finished lamely, looking at the floor with an expression like he was expecting to get his heart ripped out and stamped on. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, I feel– but I know you don’t–.” Stiles cut him off, walking up to him and taking his face between his hands, forcing Derek to look at him.

“Oh, I do. I completely do.”

Stiles dived in for a kiss, not a sprig of mistletoe in sight. He poured everything he had into the kiss (very little experience but masses of enthusiasm and a pretty blindsiding amount of emotion) willing Derek to get it. God knows Derek Hale is probably the most difficult person in the world to get to believe that he actually deserves love and nice things. Stiles would be content spending the rest of his life showing him.

The kiss was deep, it didn’t take long to get Derek to sink into the kiss. His whole being seeming to relax, letting out a quiet sigh as their tongues slid against each other perfectly, hands both clung onto clothing and ran gently along backs and faces. He bit gently at Derek’s lower lip, pulling on it just slightly, getting a sweet and soft moan out of Derek whose hands held on tighter to Stiles’ back, almost as if he was clinging on for dear life.

Stiles didn’t know exactly how long they had been kissing, but when he pulled back the clock read 00:07.

“Merry Christmas, moron.” Stiles smiled, faces not moving more than a few inches apart.

“Merry Christmas Stiles.” Derek whispered back, before sinking back into the kiss, hands still tightly wound into his shirt, like he was afraid Stiles would disappear.

But Stiles knew, he wasn’t going anywhere.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this ridiculous little Christmas fic - have a good one everyone! 
> 
> Find me on [tumbles](http://obithefabulous.tumblr.com/)
> 
> As always I welcome prompts for various ships if you want to trust me with them :)
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS ALL YOU WONDERFUL PEOPLE!


End file.
